“You’re… a doctor?” “Resident at this point, but yes. Why?” He smiles as he sips his drink from the bottle, as if he already knows what I’m going to say. “You’re too good-looking to be a doctor.” I scoff. “Tell me the truth. Are you a handyman or something?” He chuckles and holds his hands in the air. “You got me; I actually clean the toilets.”
